


come down here, garry

by starCatinum



Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 17:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1718492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starCatinum/pseuds/starCatinum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i think a lot about what might have happened to garry before he encountered ib, and how he got into the fabricated world</p>
            </blockquote>





	come down here, garry

The lights flickered once, then twice. Garry glanced up from the plaque he'd been studying (“A Well-Intentioned Hell”). He was ready to brush it off as a power surge, but once he was shaken out of his fine art reverie Garry noticed how quiet the museum had gone.

_Closing early? I didn't see the rest of it...oh well. Maybe next week._

Shuffling towards the lobby, Garry noted the lights continued to flicker. “I get it, I'm going.” He pushed at the door. Puzzled, he pushed again.

 _Locked?_ Perhaps the gallery attendants didn't check the far side of the gallery for lingering art enthusiasts. He shoved his hands into his pockets and retraced his steps as he searched for a receptionist. _Excuse me sir, but it seems I'm locked in. Yes, it's possible I am too daft to notice closing bells._ Garry sighed. _Eh. Mild embarrassment is better than sleeping on tile floor, I suppose._

The lights blacked out.

“Hold on! There's still someone here!”

No employee responded. Garry called out again and strained to hear an answer. He caught soft chattering. _The lobby? I was just there..._ Garry moved with slow, careful steps to avoid any floor exhibits. He let his right hand brush the wall to keep himself oriented in the dark.

“Ah!” Garry recoiled. Something warm and wet oozed across his fingers. There was a faint electric whine just before the lights came on, albeit dimly.

**COME GARRY COME GARRY COME....**

“Wh-what is this?!”

He shook his hand as if the blue paint were some vile substance. The letters dripped down the wall, haphazardly slapped there in a wobbling line. Garry tentatively raised his arm and stretched as high as he could. One of the R's hovered just out of his reach. “How...?”

He rushed by rows of paintings, eyes to the ground. “Someone _has_ to be here.” Something made a soft tap against the wall just as he passed. Cautiously, he turned to look.

The Hanged Man had been switched. At least, that had to be the answer, because while this piece had the same frame and background, the Hanged Man himself was gone. Instead, a thin cord trailed from under the frame. It ended in a loop and pinned to that was a note: **HANG TIGHT, GARRY**

“Who's doing this? Hello?! It really isn't funny, would you just come out already?”

The narrow staircase- one he was positive didn't exist five minutes ago, when he first passed reception- stretched into a yawning, black basement. Dim red lights cast a wobbling light every so often. Something was etched on the mantle. He only took a few nervous steps forward in order to read the lettering.

**COME DOWN BELOW GARRY. WE'LL SHOW YOU SOMETHING SPECIAL**

“No, no way.” Garry whipped around.

**COWARD SPINELESS FAILURE**

Angry streaks of royal blue coated the walls with words nearly two feet high. Garry stumbled back, trembling, but refused to move down the stairs. He saw a dark blob bubble up by his foot. **IT'S OKAY IF YOU'RE SCARED. WE'LL JUST HAVE TO HELP YOU!**

The noose slipped over his head and started closing before he even knew it was there. Garry yelped, clawing at the rope as it hoisted him off the ground. Tears blurred his vision but he grit his teeth and kept prying until he could wedge his fingers into the loop just enough to take a shallow breath. His screaming came out half-gurgled. “S-stop! Please!”

He felt something wrap around his ankle about the same time the noose went slack. He dropped, coughing violently. Something tugged playfully at the rope. He scrambled to free his foot but the third tug turned into a yank, then a mighty pull.

“No! No no no!”

Garry saw the doorway (when he saw anything at all, his perspective bounced and spun as his body was dragged away) as a receding point of light. His heart fell and he cried out. In a panicked burst of energy he braced both arms against the walls and tried to hold himself. For a few minutes it was a standstill, Garry's strength versus the force behind the rope.

His arms buckled. Garry cried out again as he was dragged even faster down the bottomless staircase.

It ended with a dull slam against the wall. For a long time, he curled up in an aching heap. When he finally dared to move, the stairwell had vanished. The hallway, both painted and carpeted in somber dark colors, stretched one way but Garry wasn't sure he even wanted to see what waited at the end.

“Please...I've had enough. Can you come out, whoever you are? I...I want to go.”  
He saw the paint seep through the walls this time.

**DON'T BE A COWARD, GARRY**

**COME SEE THE MUSEUM**

He stood, crossing his arms protectively. Garry suddenly felt very, very small.  _I...don't have a choice, do I?_

Around the first corner, Garry found a mostly bare room. In the center sat a low table, with a beautiful blue rose and a note.

“ _You and the rose are unified. As it wilts, so do you. Know the weight of your own life.”_


End file.
